


Murder Was The Case

by Roachbugg, TyJaxDrax



Series: OC Collabs [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awoo Werewolves Of London, British, Hunter - Freeform, James Mcavoy Referance, Jesse is Still a Refrence Generator, Magic, Murder, Organized Crime, Supernatural Elements, Tom Hiddleston Referance, getting away with murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9420587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roachbugg/pseuds/Roachbugg, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxDrax/pseuds/TyJaxDrax
Summary: So this was officially the strangest hunt he'd ever been on. A fucking werewolf gay adult film star. Total prissy super twink power bottom. Jesse had wanted to shoot him before he knew he was a werewolf serial killer. Of course, he hadn't planned for the whole porn set to go absolutely apeshit when they'd found the body far quicker than he’d suspected.“Get out of there, Jesse,” Daniel said calmly over the earpiece he’d given the hunter, trying to seem as casual as he could in a rather freaked out group of set-workers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Daniel Owen -ErikReaper
> 
> Jesse Roach -Roachbugg

    

**Daniel Owen                       Jesse Roach**

So this was officially the strangest hunt he'd ever been on. A fucking werewolf gay adult film star. Total prissy super twink power bottom. Jesse had wanted to shoot him _before_ he knew he was a werewolf serial killer. Of course, he hadn't planned for the whole porn set to go absolutely apeshit when they'd found the body far quicker than he’d suspected.

He'd even used a knife! Nice quiet silver-wolfsbane laced dagger to the heart, _bang_ done. Dead werewolf, safer London. Now he was stuck here with a guy _he_ killed, praying that the British police were as stupid as American and Polish police. He wasn't stupid of course, he hadn't left a shred of forensic evidence, no prints, no fibbers. He'd even thrown the knife so he didn't come out looking like Jack the ripper! _Heh, Jack the Ripper, because it's England…._ He was pretty sure no one had seen anything and he'd disabled the security cameras. _Not that they even worked._ Whoever owned this studio was a cheap fuck. Those were like, circa 1971 cams.

“Get out of there, Jesse,” Daniel said calmly over the earpiece he’d given the hunter, trying to seem as casual as he could in a rather freaked out group of set-workers. He was posing quite well as one of the staff members. “The police are outside,” he’d added right after, eyeing the room. The door was around the corner, a terrible angle and he’d be seen on his way out. He was sure that there was an air duct in that room somewhere. He’d checked the blueprints of the building a few times for possible exits all over the place, having not been sure where the hunter wanted the deed done.

“I’d love too, but the whole place is surrounded by either gawkers, press or cops.” Jesse muttered, looking the part of a bored guy standing there waiting for someone to take his statement so he could leave. “Seriously, how'd the cops get here so fast? Was half the damn force having tea and biscuits around the block or something?” Seriously, it was ridiculously quick response time. Of course a bunch of freaked out porn actors and staff had made a lot of racket, screaming, running, utter pandemonium. He couldn't get out without seeming shady, so he'd stayed put.

“Honestly, our response time has always been quite impressive. Don’t leave through the door, you’ll be caught. Is there a vent in there?” Daniel edged his way along the outside of the group, standing closer to the wall with the murder room on the other side. He was standing unnecessarily close, maybe suspiciously, but he couldn’t have the hunter taken in. It wouldn’t go down very well, and he’d known hunters that had nearly called on him in interrogations. Daniel was the walking alibi for these men, and women. “And do hurry, darling,” he refrained from smirking coyly.

“Unless you've got either a blow torch or a screw driver, I'm not getting that cover off. It's screwed into the duct.” _Seriously, who does that!_ “Don't call me darling.” He added with a grumble. Only his Babunia could call him that. Nobody else! “It's looking like I'll have to bullshit my way out of this,” He had a pretty convincing cover story, that he had a reason to be there. So, at least he wasn't _Immediately_ suspicious. He was as inconspicuous as any Polish-American hunter in London could be. Seriously, what was with London and werewolves? He'd fucked a werewolf when he got here and killed one. His life was strange, what was that wolf boys name? Jackson? Whatever, he was gorgeous and about as dangerous as a grumpy puppy.

“What, are you going to pretend you don’t speak _Limey_?” the hunter had called him that not long after they met, using it to describe the Brit on many occasions so far. “If so, you’ll be making a great impression of an idiot,” Daniel softened his voice and went silent as he saw a few officers beginning to enter the building. “They’re in,” he ran his hand over his mouth inconspicuously.

“I'm a talent scout for Bel Ami.” He said in a flawless Czech accent. He could apparently do everything _but_ limey. It was like his throat was incapable of making him sound like anything other than an eighty year old English woman. He'd unfortunately left his Mrs Doubtfire costume at the hotel. _Don't laugh, dead guy in next room._ Seriously, that would be how he became suspicious, laughing at his own jokes. _Being hilarious is hard._

Daniel internally sighed in exasperation as he heard the stupid giggling over his earpiece. He couldn’t say a word because then an officer would notice. So he carefully reached up and removed the device from his ear, pocketing it and breaking the part connecting his frequency with Jesse’s.

“Chief Inspector Lestrade,” he turned his head towards the door at the name, seeing the man stepping in with a highly ranked police officers confident stride. The men deserved his Chief Inspector title. He was that good, though he’d had another man’s help on multiple cases that may have boosted his reputation. Said man was actually following the Inspector in, seeming bored. Daniel actually dropped his gaze and sighed, trying to seem at least better composed. They were definitely caught if Sherlock Holmes was there. He may as well preemptively turn himself in.

Jesse had been in similar situations, sort of. As long a they didn't have a supernatural way of reading his mind. His cover story was solid. He was an excellent liar, no one had actually seen him do it. There was no way to draw a logical connection to him. As long as he didn't give himself away, he'd be fine. If not, well he could pull a Steve McQueen and great escape from prison, if he _had_ to. He'd rather avoid being wanted in the UK though, preferably.

The men walked further into the room, the tallest scanning the civilians and staff. Daniel immediately just mingled, seeming as guilty as anyone else in the room. He really hadn’t actually seen the body, much less had a physical hand in the murder, so he was technically innocent. He saw nothing. So, it wasn’t that hard. It was just a hope that the brains of the three didn’t see anything off when he surveyed him in the crowed.

He took a discreet breath and reached into his pocket for his phone, maybe seeming much less conspicuous since a few others had been ranting about a murder over twitter, and to their mothers and partners and the like. ‘ _We may be thoroughly screwed. Sherlock Holmes_ ,’ was all he needed to send to get his damn point across to the man still hidden in the room with the body.

‘ _Fuck me_ ’ Jesse texted back. That was when he noticed it and felt like a moron for not noticing before. There was a way out of the room, just not out of the building. There was a panel in the back of the dressing room closet that allowed access to the pipes in the adjacent bathroom. He could squeeze through and into said bathroom. _Nothing suspicious about a guy on the commode._

Jesse removed the panel, silently slipping through and replacing it. It was a tight squeeze, but he managed to shimmy up the pipes and crawl across the ceiling to drop down in the adjacent bathroom. Thankfully it was deserted. Okay, not being found _with_ the body helps. He checked himself over in the mirror. He was thankful he was part witch as he made the dirt disappear from his clothes and stepped out of the bathroom into the crowd. He slid up next to Daniel, looking the part of the confused foreigner. “Why are the police here?” He asked like he'd heard a commotion, but had been using the.commode at the time.

“A body was found,” Daniel answered, acting as if it was rather shocking news and that he was like any other person in the room of scared and attention-seeking staff members. The police were still running around, asking repeated questions throughout the mass of co-workers and present people. Inspector Lestrade was only standing there now, staring into the room from where Daniel could see. Mr Holmes and Mr Watson were at his side. Daniel wouldn’t admit out loud to having watched the taller of the three a bit too interestedly.

“Můj bože! Do they know who it was?” **_My God_**. Jesse played the part of shock well, careful not to over act. He tracked Daniels line of sight to who he was currently ogling. _Seriously?_ Are all my friends both gay, and attracted to the worst people at the worst times? You can bang later!

“Not that I can tell. They’re obviously trying to figure that out, by the looks of it,” Daniel was maybe a tad distracted while replying, watching the three carefully, though maybe a lot more focused on Mr Holmes than the others. He cleared his throat and turned away, running a hand over his mouth and then pocketing both hands in his rather fancy dress trousers.

“I should have listened when mother told me not to come to England.” Jesse said keeping himself occupied by fiddling with his keys in his pock-

“You don't have a mother.” Mr. Holmes suddenly cut in. _Rude much? Brits I swear no manners._ It wasn't exactly true he _had_ a mother, he just had never actually met her. How the fuck did he know that any way?

“I beg your pardon?” Jesse asked, turning toward the _bluntly observant_ Englishman. He eyed him over. _Smart, good with body language, understands psychology, probably incredibly observant._ Yeah, Jesse could analyze people too, he was a hunter part of his job.

“A mother, you don’t have one. The way you present yourself clearly shows that you haven’t had any kind of parental interaction for a rather long time, regardless of clearly having been raised by an older, wiser person. Grandfather? No… Grandmother, there’s indication of her hand picking what you’re wearing. A feminine touch,” the man barely stopped to breathe, eyeing Jesse over further with an impassive gaze, picking up more details even when he’s stopped himself from continuing for the moment.

“My- she doesn't pick my clothes,” Jesse grumbled. He dressed his damn self, thank you very much, Mr Observant Robot. “I call her mother,” he added, crossing his arms. This was utterly intrusive and made him want to hit things. It was why he didn't go to a damn shrink. He took medication for his psychological problems.

“That may be, but years of her having hand-picked a style for you, herself, has you wearing the style regularly,” the intense stare never faltered.

“Then we simply share the same good taste. Please tell me more about myself. An outside perspective is intriguing.” _And uncomfortable._ This guy had superb analytical skill. He'd make a decent hunter. At least a good investigator. He wondered if he was perceptive enough to realize that somethings were _Supernatural_ and not _natural._ He'd play along. It'd be a decent way to see what he's up against.

“The discolouration in your eyes tells me that you’ve had a traumatic past, something you haven’t really gotten over yet. The fact that you have no parents may have had a hand in maturing you in that reason. I say matured, because you’re in your mid-twenties. You have no wrinkles, or any signs of old age. You’re well educated, I can see that by the way you’re currently watching me, or should I say, psycho-analyzing. You rarely trust anyone, including this man,” he gestured quickly and passively to Daniel. “Though you gain trust from others easily. The similar amount of minor calluses on both hands tell me that you’re ambidextrous, though you favour the left. You’re incredibly disciplined, similar to that of a trainee soldier and you love your grandmother very much,” Mr Holmes finished abruptly, staring hard at him. “Please, do tell me I’m wrong,”

“I’m tempted to, simply out of spite,” Jesse teased, chuckling a bit, “You aren't, especially on the last point.” Jesse gave Mr. Holmes another look over, an impressed one. “While I enjoyed this conversation, what drew you to us. There's a good thirty others in this room.” He figured they must've seemed off in some way. He just wondered in _what_ way.

“Yes, but none have a striking resemblance to the actor Tom Hiddleston,” Mr Holmes then turned towards Daniel, his gaze maybe a tad softer and tad more animated. “Are you related in any way?”

“Not that I know, I-...” he really had no clue what  to say. There was no relation between them, that he was aware of in any way. He just had a similarity in appearance, nothing more.

“Sherlock, we have a murder to solve.” Mr. Watson interjected, seeing that Mr. Holmes had gotten off track. Jesse was amused, he'd been told he looked like James Mcavoy. It was funny the celebrity look alike thing, now that he thought about it..

“Do you have a thing for Tom Hiddleston, Mr. Holmes? I noticed you staring, and not in the same analytical way you looked at me.” He could work with this, it was a useful distraction. Bless you and your pretty face Daniel. _At least he hasn't implicated me as a suspect here_.

“Are you referring to my liking of his movies, or the way of attraction? Because the answer would be yes to both,” Mr Holmes replied quite bluntly, barely any emotion to the sentence. “Right, must be off. A murder to solve,” he quirked a brow and gave them a patronizing smile before turning swiftly and heading towards the door, Inspector Lestrade and Mr Watson following close behind.

Daniel only stared for a moment, his mind not really processing what had just happened. They’d talked with Sherlock Holmes, yes… but what the hell… Wait-. “Did he just admit to having a fond attraction to a man that looks identical to me…” he furrowed his brow.

“He did, bless Odin for that.” Jesse patted both Daniel's cheeks. “Your pretty face may have saved my butt.” _Literally_ my butt would not do well in prison it's too pretty. He really needed to get out of this country asap though, Holmes was like a hound and there was no way he wanted his scent caught.

“And now you’re admitting that I’m pretty,” Daniel smirked as he stepped away from the wall and headed towards the door. They were basically dismissed, so that gave them the okay to leave. “This day can’t get any better,”


End file.
